


Your Tubbo

by JinxStinx



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bro this is so sad, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, Dadza, Depressed TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Evil Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), How tf do you tag and shit, I cried writing a few lines, I literally don't know how to tag or do this at all yet, Other, Philza (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, TechnoBlade, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, TommyInnit - Freeform, Tubbo - Freeform, dream - Freeform, philza - Freeform, please teach me, suicide warning, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:07:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxStinx/pseuds/JinxStinx
Summary: It looks so warm.Tommy had finally had enough, and found himself standing on the edge.(TW! This piece includes the topic of suicide!)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 125





	Your Tubbo

**Author's Note:**

> Ohhhh biiiiitch, my first time posting. How exciting. I've had this account since I was 14, and I'm just now posting at 19. About time huh? Anyways, please let me know what you think! I wrote this in one night, but I'm still very proud of it. 
> 
> Because this piece deals with the topic of suicide, I'm leaving some suicide hotlines in the bottom notes. Please know that you are loved and you are important. You are not a waste of space for existing. You are allowed to exist and allowed to take up space. You matter.

_ It looks so warm. _

Tommy stood with his toes, peeking out from the holes in his worn shoes, dangling over the edge of the ledge he’d built the prior week. He originally had it built as a place to come to scream, his getaway when it all got too much. A place where he could chance fate, feeling the ricketyness of the makeshift bridge bend with his weight over the building lake of lava below, as he stood at the edge and screamed the days pain out. 

His eyes were fixated at the heat below, his vision blurry in his daze. Even being this close to the lava was a bit uncomfortable, it’s scalding temperatures making anyone pull uncomfortably at their collars. But in his current numb mood, the heat was almost a nice wake up call. It brought him back from his hazy state, just enough to think for a bit. But never enough to fix anything.

This time was different. 

His mind kept replaying the scene that had occurred just an hour ago, watching his home away from home explode in a blast of rage from a certain masked ‘friend’. He could still feel the way his heart sank with Dream pulling out the TnT, the heat of the masked blonde’s anger spewing off the words flying out of his mouth, directly at the blue eyed teen. The way he reminded him with venom piercing his words, how none of his friends cared about him anymore. How no one came to see him. Replayed the way he had hurriedly pulled the last pictures of L’Manburg and Tubbo out, before the explosion had incinerated the chest they previously sat in. As he watched his wooden palace glow orange with the blast, and how Dream smiled as he watched the wood burn. 

In those moments, Tommy finally realized something; Dream wasn’t his friend.   
The Dream that had visited and kept him company in Logstedshire was not his friend, but rather his manipulator, his enemy. All the times that the smirking blonde had demanded his stuff thrown into a hole, and smiled when it burned, it wasn’t for Tommy’s ‘good’. All the times he had told him that he was the only one who cared about him, how he was all he had left. He was wrong. Tommy didn’t have Dream.

Tommy had no one. 

No one came to visit him, to see how the young boy was doing in his exile. The ones who did, came with laughs and stories of the home he was never allowed to see again.  _ They only came to mock him.  _

_ They didn’t care. _

So here he stood, above what he was contemplating making his only friend.

Death. 

He was sick of it, sick of it all. Sick of being alone, in a place he didn’t deserve to be in, with a man he didn’t deserve to be broken by. 

Tears began to pool in his eyes as the thoughts ran through his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut to try and stop them from falling. His fists balled up, shaking slightly as his emotions bubbled up and started to escape. 

_ No one cares about me.  _

He sank to the ground, ragged sobs forcing their way out of his chest. His head fell in between his knees, hands threading through his hair and pulling harshly as his sobs turned into painful screams. Tears streamed down his cheeks and soaked into his pants, leaving growing damp marks. 

He screamed until his voice was hoarse, his yelling slowly turning into small whimpers as he rocked himself back and forth.

_ No one cares. Not even Tubbo. _

After a few minutes, his crying stilled as he tilted his head up just enough to peer down at the compass tied to the string around his neck. He reached up and pulled the metal from under his shirt, staring at the object with wet eyes. The metal felt piercingly cold against his palm, a sharp contrast to the air and ground around him. He stared numbly at the engraving. 

_ Your Tubbo. _

His fingers clenched hard around the edges, his lip wobbling with anger. 

“Fuck you Tubbo! How could you abandon me like this? We were best friends. Brothers. We were there for each other, till the end of the line. And you threw me away. You listened to  _ Dream,  _ over me.” He screamed into the void of lava, his voice cutting out at some words from the strain.

“How could you?” He whispered, screwing his eyes closed. With rage building in his heart, he stood abruptly. He stared down at the lava, angry tears falling from his cheeks and into the lake. He stared one more time at the compass, running his thumb over the words. 

“Goodbye Tubbo.” His foot came off the edge and over the lava, his eyes closing as he released his breath. 

“TOMMY!” Tommy’s eyes flew open at the scream, turning his head to see what appeared to be Tubbo running down the path towards him, Technoblade and Phil a little ways behind him. 

Tommy’s breath hitched as the two made eye contact, Tubbo coming to a halt just before the small bridge. His foot came back, but still rested on the edge. 

“...Tubbo?” Tommy’s voice was quite, his confusion evident. 

His brother stood quiet for a second, not believing he was seeing what he was. 

“Tommy, what are you doing so close to the edge?” Tubbo almost whispered, his eyes filled with tears. He didn’t want to believe he was witnessing what he was.

“What are you....are you…are you real?” Tommy asked, turning to face him. Tubbo’s face twisted in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Of course I’m real. It’s me Tommy.” Tubbo said, a small smile on his face. Phil and Techno had caught up now, standing a few feet behind Tubbo. Seeing how close Tommy was to the edge, the two shared worried glances between themselves. 

“Tommy, step away from the edge. Come over here and we can talk about this-” Phil started, but Tommy interrupted, seemingly not noticing his dad and older brother. 

“No. You can’t be real. Tubbo hasn’t visited me at all. You’re just another hallucination of mine.” Tommy said, with a bite in his tone. Tubbo could see the anger in his brother’s face, and his tears fell.

“Tommy, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I never visited, please believe me. I missed you so much though. I missed you everyday. I wished I could come everyday, but I was busy with L’Manburg and I couldn’t just abandon my post to come-” 

“But you could abandon me!” Tommy yelled, Tubbo flinching at being cut off so harshly. 

“You couldn’t come see your own brother because you cared more about being president than checking on me. You had every  _ chance _ to come see me, and you didn’t. Hell, even Quackity came to see me.  _ Dream _ came to see me. Do you,” Tommy started laughing, “do you know what Dream did to me?” Tubbo was now crying, seeing the true nature of what exile had done to Tommy’s head. 

“He visited me almost every day. He came and he kept me company. He helped me plan a beach party for all of you, which of course none of you showed up to. He joked with me and made me laugh when I was upset. He even let me borrow his trident and have some fun for a bit. But you know what else? He hurt me. He would blow up my stuff every time he visited, saying it was for “my own good.” It made me so  _ excited _ when I was allowed to keep my armor a few times. How sad is that? It made me happy to have such a basic privilege with him. And he reminded me constantly, everytime I even got a bit of confidence back, that none of you cared about me.  _ None  _ of you. Most of you never showed your ugly mugs around here, and those few who did only came to laugh at me or out of pity. You all acted like you cared for me  _ so much _ when we were hand in hand in L’manburg. So what happened? Where was that care when I was forced to be ALONE. And you wanna know the worst part?” Tommy threw his hands out, laughing slightly as tears ran down his own cheeks. His foot stepped back, slipping slightly on the edge. Phil and Techno yelled out in protest, but Tommy ignored them as he stared into Tubbo’s eyes. 

“Dream may have tried to break me, but losing you was what broke me in the end.” He reached up and with a quick yank, broke the string the compass was hanging from. He chucked the piece to Tubbo, who caught it and looked down at it, sobbing as he saw what it was. He looked back up with anguish. 

“Goodbye, old friend.” 

With a small salute and a last tear down his chin, Tommy fell backwards. 

Tubbo, shocked, dropped the compass on the Nether floor, silent compared to the screaming of Techno and Phil. 

Tubbo rushed towards the ledge, barely missing Phil’s arms as he desperately reached for his other son, knowing full well what he was about to do. 

Without a second thought in the world, Tubbo leapt. 

He barreled towards his descending brother, whose face turned to shock upon seeing his falling sibling. 

When he reached him, Tubbo wrapped his arms around Tommy’s torso, pulling him into an almost crushing embrace.

“Why?” Tommy tearfully asked, the wind around them almost drowning his voice out. 

“Because I couldn’t leave my best friend behind this time.” Tubbo responded, a small smile on his face. 

Tommy said nothing as he embraced his brother back, laying his head on his shoulder, also smiling. 

They hit the lava together. 

On the ledge above them, Phil sank to his knees as he screamed and wailed, Techno holding him back with tears in his eyes as his father still struggled to rush to the ledge and try to save his sons. But Techno knew it would do no good, they were already gone. His chest ached as he held and soothed his inconsolable father, watching the notification ring out on the communicators. 

_ Tommy and Tubbo tried to swim in lava.  _

\-----

Everyone showed up to the funeral. It was decided by Phil that they would have a combined one, to honor both boys at the same time. No one would have it any other way, as it was fitting for the duo who was seemingly attached at the hip for as long as they were together. 

The decor was fitting as well, Tubbo’s side being filled with decorations of bees and wildlife, flowers almost drowning his empty casket. Tommy’s was a little more subtle, but still just as loud with red as his personality was. On top of his casket sat his discs and the compass, who had been grabbed by Techno after noticing it on the ground as he and Phil made their way back. He solemnly grabbed it, and had worn it around his own neck until the ceremony. 

Phil was still numb from the shock of losing two sons at once. He already had to endure the immeasurable pain of killing Wilbur, his son gone psycho, and now here he was with only one remaining one. Technoblade had found comfort in trying to track down Dream, his thirst for revenge running him blind with red coated rage. 

Talking at the funeral was a task, but Phil had been adamant on doing it. Even through days of preparing, his emotions crepted up every few minutes, and refused to leave no matter how many times he tried to swallow them down. He told stories of the boys, and how they lived. How he found Tubbo on the side of a road, and kept him much to the jealousy of a still young Tommy, only to find him later sleeping next to his newly adopted bro. How when they got older, he would often find them playing together in their room late at night. He would hear little shushes as he walked up to the door, opening it to find the young pair trying, and failing, to seem fast asleep only to end in a giggle fit from the two. How Tommy used to challenge Technoblade to duels, only to get thrown halfway across the yard and yell ‘again!’ with blood running down his scraped knees. How Tubbo used to run around picking flowers and showing little bees he deemed friends to a guitar strumming Wilbur. 

Phil’s voice cracked and broke the whole way through his speech, tears spilling halfway. It hurt to recount the stories.

Phil’s obvious struggle did not go unnoticed, and when his voice finally gave out with a wrack of sobs, Techno rushed up and pulled him into a hug, whispering reassurances into his father’s ear as he told him to go sit down. 

After helping Phil to his seat, Techno took the mic. 

“I won’t lie, I didn’t have the best relationship with either of them in the end. I lost Tommy’s trust when I sided with Wilbur’s destruction, and I lost Tubbo to my anarchist ways. But they were still my brothers. I-” Techno hitched, taking a deep breath as tears pooled up.

“I miss them. They were my brothers, and I loved them. I loved them ever since they were little, and I still loved them even through all this shit. And I wish I had told them that more. I wish I had been able to tell them that more. I wish I had been there for Tommy, or at least had been able to get him back from that ledge, and I wish I had been able to grab and hold Tubbo back from following him. But I couldn’t.” 

He stared down at the podium, and the audience shared in his tears. They had never seen the piglin halfling show this much emotion in front of them for as long as they had known him. They had known him as the stone cold Blood God, and now here he stood, baring all his emotions for everyone to see. 

“But I can do this. I can make a promise.” He pulled his cape aside, pulling his sword out from its sheath and holding it at his side, his knuckles white as he gripped its handle painfully tight. 

“I promise, that the next time I see that masked little fucker, he’ll finally feel the real reason why they call me the Blood God.”

**Author's Note:**

> Suicide Hotlines:
> 
> Argentina: +5402234930430  
> Australia: 131114  
> Austria: 017133374  
> Belgium: 106  
> Bosnia & Herzegovina: 080 05 03 05  
> Botswana: 3911270  
> Brazil: 212339191  
> Bulgaria: 0035 9249 17 223  
> Canada: 5147234000 (Montreal); 18662773553 (outside Montreal)  
> Croatia: 014833888  
> Denmark: +4570201201  
> Egypt: 7621602  
> Finland: 010 195 202  
> France: 0145394000  
> Germany: 08001810771  
> Holland: 09000767  
> Hong Kong: +852 2382 0000  
> Hungary: 116123  
> Iceland: 1717  
> India: 8888817666  
> Ireland: +4408457909090  
> Italy: 800860022  
> Japan: +810352869090  
> Mexico: 5255102550  
> New Zealand: 045861048  
> Netherlands: 09000113  
> Norway: +4781533300  
> Philippines: 028969191  
> Poland: 5270000  
> Russia: 0078202577577  
> Spain: 914590050  
> South Africa: 0514445691  
> Sweden: 46317112400  
> Switzerland: 143  
> United Kingdom: 0800585858 or 116123  
> USA: 18002738255


End file.
